by EM BROWN
He has a tight grip on my thigh, holding me in place as I convulse, trying to scramble away from the toothbrush while euphoria pumps through my veins.
“Please!” I beg. “Oh God, please!”
He releases me and turns off the toothbrush. I fall onto my side, curled in a fetal position, my clit throbbing like crazy.
Anything and everything.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
He’s not done with me.
He takes off his clothes. After he removes the floss and frees my arms from my shirt, I stretch out my limbs, thinning the tension that has collected in my muscles. He lays over me, pressing me face down into the bed. I feel his hardness prod my backside. Anything and everything probably includes anal sex. God Almighty.
Luckily, he aims his cock lower, sinking into my pussy, the entry made easy by the copious amount of wetness there. He murmurs something that sounds like ‘zut.’ In this position, the depth of penetration is limited, even as he bends his legs, straddling the outside of my thighs, but the angle hits me just right. When I envision sex, I picture the missionary position more often than not. I equate humping from the back with four legged creatures, but I can’t deny the pleasure I derive from being taken from behind.
After settling himself more fully inside of me, he brushes aside my hair to kiss my neck and upper shoulders. It feels surprisingly intimate. Contrary to his rougher motions downstairs, he rolls his hips with much more tenderness. I sigh at the gentler approach, content to be caged beneath his weight. Gradually, he tries to leverage off the bed to deepen his thrusts. There’s not much I can do except lay there. I can’t see him, I can’t touch him. Except with my pussy, which flexes about him, making him groan. He entwines his fingers in mine.
My journey to orgasm this time is much less frenetic. I can savor each stroke and relish the slow build-up. It’s like taking the scenic route, and when I reach my climax, I’m ready for it. With a cry, I feel like I’m able to ride the wave instead of being wiped out by it. He quickens his pace after I come, his groin slapping faster and more furious against my ass. I feel him spasm against me as he comes. With a loud grunt, he bucks against me a few more times before settling his body over me. I breathe in satisfaction.
I’m exhausted. It’s been a marathon of sex, and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Can I really take another day of this?
Tony pulls out of me and lays beside me. “So is that a ‘yes?’”
I close my eyes. As I fade into slumber, I murmur my response.
Yes.
IN THE MORNING, I WAKE up in the crook of Tony’s arm. I’m not sure how I got there, if he reached for me or I imposed myself into his body. But it feels nice. Really nice. I glance at his face to see that he’s staring up at the ceiling.
“Awake long?” I ask.
He turns to me. “An hour, maybe an hour and a half.”
I start. “Really?”
I like the way his lashes move when his gaze takes in my face from my brow to my lips, and his voice is relaxed when he speaks. “I didn’t want to wake you by moving.”
“That’s, um, nice of you.”
He looks away with a snort, rejecting the compliment. “You think it’s for your benefit, ma petite? I want you rested for anything and everything.”
So much for the relaxed moment. I finger the uneven ridge along his pec. “Is this a scar or a birthmark?”
“A scar,” he answers with disinterest.
“How’d you get it?”
“A knife wound.”
“Is that when you were attacked in Hanoi?”
“Yes.”
“That must have been scary. Were you hurt in any other way?”
“No.”
“And your cousin? Was she okay?”
“A few minor bruises. I think the effects afterward were harder for her to bear.”
I should probably leave it at that, but curiosity gets the better of me. “Was it for you as well?”
“I was angry. If I hadn’t fended off the ambush, May could have been...they wouldn’t have killed her, she’s worth too much for that. But they could have done other things to her. Auction her off as a sex slave. Make her work on their porn films. The Mao Group engages in a lot of sex trafficking.”
“What would they have done to you?”
He laughs. “Ransomed me for sure. Maybe tortured me. One of the Mao Group lieutenants doesn’t like me since I beat up his younger brother decades ago.”
“Were—are you part of a triad?”
He meets my gaze and can’t seem to look away. “I left that life a long time ago.”
I mostly believe him. “How were you in it?”
“A different part of my family lives in that world.”
“Are you truly able to leave that world?”
“Our family is very practical. I’m worth more out than in. And I was never really that involved. I was just a teenager fucking around, rebelling against my father. But I got my cousin Benjamin into it, and my uncle accused me of ruining his son’s future. Our fathers sent us off to boarding schools. Me to Paris. Benjamin to London.”
“Benjamin is the one you invited to evaluate Eric’s project?”
Tony nods.
“What time are you guys heading up to the site?”
“Eric thought ten o’clock.”
I look at the clock. “You should get ready then.”
Throwing back the covers, I get out of bed, but Tony yanks me back.
“You’ve got to take care of something first,” he says, pulling aside the bed cover to reveal his hard-on. He pushes my head toward it.
Knowing what he wants, I wrap my mouth about his erection. He murmurs his approval and weaves his fingers through my hair, tugging me down further down his length. I grasp the base of his shaft as I glide my mouth up and down. I’m not sure who’s in the position of power here. He’s making me give him head, but I want it just as much. I want to make him come. I want to see him come, rendered momentarily helpless by his orgasm, knowing I made it happen.
With zest, I suck on him. He tightens his grip on my hair. He lets me work him for several minutes before sitting up. He reaches for his pants, which are on the floor, and retrieves a condom. Unwrapping it, he rolls the condom down his cock. I lick my lips involuntarily. That shaft of his has penetrated the deepest parts of me, been where no one and nothing has been before. Grabbing my leg, he makes me straddle him. He moves me over him, grinding my pussy against his rod. The ease with which he manipulates me makes me feel like I’m five pounds, and my pussy is loving the contact, the friction. Moisture eventually flows down, making my glide smoother along his shaft.
After he’s worked me up, roused my craving, has me groaning my pleasure, he lifts me up and settles me over his cock. My vagina hasn’t completely healed, but the soreness doesn’t bother me. I want this too much. He’s so beautiful with his bronzed skin, sculpted body, and black hair. My ardor can’t get enough of him, the way he rolls into me, the wave he sets me on. I’m becoming an addict. Maybe I already am.
The percolation in my loins spreads, erupting into tremors as I cry out my release. He bucks his hips in rhythm to my up and down motion, spearing into me just as I descend. My body absorbs the impact, the pain muted by the endorphins rushing through my body. He gaze locks with mine as he comes, shoving hard and deep into me, taking my breath away. He lets go of my hips, and I crumble atop him. I lay there, breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. He rubs the back of my head and even strokes my hair. His cock is still throbbing inside of me.
I realize I like this too much and shift. He grabs his cock, holding onto the condom so that it doesn’t unexpectedly come off.
“I should let you get ready,” I say, climbing off him.
“Would you like to come see the project site?”
I try not to look too glad that he’s interested in my company.
“Um, sure,” I answer.
He goes into the bathroom to toss the con
dom, then grabs his clothes. “I’ll tell Eric. There’s probably breakfast down in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
After Tony leaves, I ready myself, giddy that I can spend more time with Tony. I even apply a little make-up. My haircut is a bit plain, and my styling skills are next to none, so I decide to give myself a French braid just to make my hair a little more interesting. I throw on jeans, a shirt, and a chunky sweater.
Sierra’s bedroom door is open, and I can see that no one is in there. I hear her snoring, though, and it’s coming from Eric’s room. Passing by Tony’s room, I hear him on the phone.
Breakfast is laid out in the kitchen like a buffet. Lifting up the covers to the chafing dishes, I find eggs benedict, bacon, toast, some kind of potato hash, and fresh fruit salad. There’s also three different pitchers of juice, coffee and tea set out. I could get used to this. Beats my cereal and cold milk.
“Sleep well?”
Putting back a cover, I turn around to find Eric smirking at me.
I nod, grab a plate and turn back toward breakfast.
“Nice jeans,” he says, his gaze staying on my ass even after I’ve turned around to face him.
I’m wearing my best stretch jeans. Got it on sale at Macy’s. I didn’t buy it to look sexy, though I know the pair fits me well.
To my astonishment, Eric walks over and puts his hand on my butt. “Not bad for white girl ass.”
I jump. Part of me doesn’t believe he actually did what he did. I don’t know what to do. He’s the host. Not just my host. But Tony’s, too. I’m essentially in his house, about to eat his food, so a part of me feels impolite calling him out. Maybe I’ll just let this instance slide.
“Personally, I’m not a fan of ethnic asses anyway,” Eric says, following in my steps. “And small tits can be sexy, too.”
I flush. I can hear Lila saying, I know your mother taught you better than that.
If I were of quicker wit, I might have a comeback like “just like small dicks can be fun,” but I’m still stunned. I’m hungry, but I don’t want breakfast now if he’s going to be around.
I’ve reached the corner of the counter, a dead end.
Eric draws up in front of me, invading my space. “You seemed to like that pool table. Maybe you and I can play a round tonight?”
“It’s a snooker table,” I reply, though what I really want to say is “get the hell away from me.”
The next thing I know, his hand is between my thighs, grabbing me. I yelp and manage to scurry away.
“That—that’s not okay,” I manage to stutter, wishing I had the guts to clock him.
He smirks. “I paid for you, so I basically own your pussy.”
“I didn’t agree—you shouldn’t assume—”
“You know that I can have any pussy I want? We Drumm men, when we see something we want, we take it.”
I feel sick now and have lost my appetite. Plate still in hand, I rush out of the kitchen and collide into Tony.
He catches me. “Are you okay?”
Still discombobulated by what happened, I avoid his gaze and mutter, “Yeah.”
“Did you have breakfast?”
“I’ll eat later.”
He looks at my plate and takes it from me. “Why not now?”
“I remembered I have to, um, text my roommate.”
I hurry past him and scurry upstairs to my bedroom. I sit on the bed and wrap my arms around myself as if I’m cold. I feel gross, violated, and disappointed in myself. I don’t like that I came across so helpless and felt so defenseless. Why can’t I be the sort of woman who’s quick on her feet, why can’t I be more assertive, why do I have to be so timid and weak?
I’ve read articles about women who’ve accused Eric’s father of sexual harassment. I guess the fruit doesn’t fall far from the proverbial tree.
“What the matter with you?”
I look up to see Sierra at my doorway. She’s wearing one of Eric’s shirts.
“Eric molested me,” I blurt.
“What?”
“He touched me, then grabbed me.”
Sierra stares at me, then rolls her eyes. “Is that all?”
“What do you mean ‘is that all?’”
“Get over it.”
“You think it’s okay that he did that?”
She shrugs her shoulders. “It’s not that big a deal. Think of it as a compliment. Afterall, it’s not like he assaulted you or hurt you in any way.”
I decide it’s not worth talking about it to Sierra. It’s only making me feel worse.
“Did you think you were going to be treated like some princess?” she asks. “Hello? You agreed to trade money for sex. What were you expecting?”
Maybe she has a point. Maybe I only have myself to blame.
But I know I don’t want to have to put up with it.
Tony appears, a frown on his face.
“I’m gonna change,” Sierra says before leaving.
“I changed my mind about going,” I tell him. “I should study.”
He doesn’t look surprised, and his tone is grim when asks, “What happened?”
The look of burning steel in his eyes makes me hesitate. I want to tell him the truth, but that might put Tony in a position of having to choose between me and Eric, and he’s supposed to befriend Eric.
“I was...I was just being touchy about something Eric said,” I say.
He raises his brows. “Is that all?”
I nod and put up a fake smile to mask the misery I feel inside.
“Then I’d like for you to come. My cousin Benjamin is meeting us there.”
I frown at the prospect of spending time in Eric’s company, but if Tony wants me to, I don’t want to refuse. I’ll just have to make sure I’m not alone with Eric.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
We take a helicopter into Northern California. I get a little motion sick, the feeling sitting on top of the ickyness still in me over what happened in the kitchen.
But it’s a gorgeous day, yet another blue and cloudless sky in California. I wish Lila could see the view of the Pacific Ocean rolling into the beaches and cliffs, though Lila gets motion sickness worse than me. Though we’re not biologically related—maybe it’s possible if we trace our roots back far enough—we share traits like motion sickness when flying, slight gluten and dairy sensitivities, and an inability to hold much alcohol. I remember at one dinner, Lila had a glass of wine on an empty stomach and nearly passed out.
I didn’t think I would be ecstatic with having to spend more time in Sierra’s company, but I’m thankful that she joins our trip. Eric pays me little attention. I see Tony looking in his direction a number of times.
The helicopter heads east, away from the ocean and into a more rural area, eventually landing in an open field. Tony helps me out of the helicopter. I still feel nauseous and hope I don’t throw up all over him. I am very happy to put my feet on solid ground.
“This is at least a four hour drive from the Bay Area,” Tony notes.
“Yeah, but we’re in friendly territory here,” Eric replies, “away from all the liberals of San Francisco and Berkeley. There’s an initiative to break up the state of California. Folks here are conservative. They don’t have anything in common with the tree huggers and hippies south of here.”
“You couldn’t find a site near the ocean?” Tony asks.
Eric sighs. “The state is protective of the coastline and preserving what they call open space. But once my dad is elected President, we’re going to change that. The federal government will trump state law.”
Tony raises a brow. “We studied the US government in a number of my courses in college, about a balance built into the country’s Constitution between federal power and states’ rights.”
“Yeah, states’ rights are needed when the federal government tries to impose its will.”
“Which is acceptable as long as that will matches your own preferences?”
Eric laughs. “Exactly.
America is about winners, and winners get to make the rules.”
A large black SUV drives up at that point. The front doors open, and out steps a big fellow who looks like he could be an NFL lineman, and the other one must be Tony’s cousin because he’s even more of a head-turner.
Eric walks up to greet them. “Benjamin Lee, nice to finally meet you.”
Benjamin, who stands a few inches taller than Tony, shakes hands. I see a similarity between the cousins in the shape of their mouths and the width of their brow, but Benjamin’s features have a different quality about them and his hair, though still black, is a shade lighter.
Tony introduces me. “This is Virginia.”
I shake hands with Benjamin. Sierra is clearly an afterthought to Eric, but he introduces her as well. I can tell she’s as struck by Benjamin as I am.
Tony nods toward the large Asian man standing next to the SUV. “You still have to drag a babysitter around with you?”
Benjamin smiles. “And where’s yours?”
“Gave mine the week off. No one’s likely to try anything here in the States.”
“You should be careful after what happened in Hanoi.”
“At least it’s known there can be consequences when attempting anything on me.”
Eric intervenes. “So let me tell you why this is going to be the best resort and golf course outside of Florida.”
He proceeds to describe his vision for a two hundred room luxury hotel with a spa and several award-winning restaurants, the 18 hole golf course with views of the hills, and a vineyard on site.
Sierra and I hang back while the man talk shop. She’s wearing a thin sleeveless dress and strappy sandals and clings tightly to a shawl while she shivers. I’ve discovered that the state of California has a lot of different climates, and the one here makes me think of the Pacific Northwest.
“What else is around here?” Benjamin asks.
“Not much,” Eric admits, “but we don’t need anything else. There’ll be golf for the men and a luxury spa for the women.”